Where Words Fail
by llamaSUPERNOVA
Summary: The purpose of music is to say that which cannot be put into words. The ten-song challenge.
1. New Soul

The song this was inspired by is 'Rejazz' by Regina Spektor.

**Note: I love Maybelle's character, but I felt that in the movie remake she was a little too much of a saint. My main goal for this one was that I wanted to explore some of her human flaws and history while keeping in tact that sassy lady we love.**

_Thought I'd cry for you forever_

But I couldn't, so I didn't.

People's children die and they

Don't even cry forever.

Thought I'd see your face in my mind for all time,

But I don't even remember what your ears looked like.

The street he grew up on is nothing like it was seventeen years ago. Diners and liquor stores have sprung up where apartments and tiny convenience stores used to be. There's an eatery where Janie Washington used to teach kids how to read. At the same time, North Avenue's not changed much. Still there's the old men smoking on front porches and teenagers dancing to the crackling radio in a vacant lot.

Without giving it much thought, the man slows as he passes them, looking deliberately. He doesn't know really who he's looking for, though, so he moves on quickly.

There's the record shop Essie told him about. She hadn't wanted to tell him and thing, but he'd gotten it out of her in the end. He grins when he sees the store name – Motormouth Records. Her mama had given her that name when she was a little girl for talking too much, but she'd just been starting to live up to it in other ways last he knew.

When the man walks in, he thinks the shop's empty. Then he sees a young girl (she can't be more than fourteen) sitting behind the counter doing homework. She's Maybelle's, that's plain to see. The man wonders whether she's married or not now. The girl looks up.

"Sorry, sir, we're closed."

"Oh, I'm not shopping, little missy. I came by to see Maybelle Stubbs. She's here?"

The girl opens a door behind her and yells up a set of stairs, "Mama, there's a man here wants to talk to you. Mr…uh…"

She glances apologetically at him and he supplies, "Jones."

"Mr. Jones," she yells up.

A minute later she's standing right in front of him. She's changed. She's older, regal, blonde. She stands tall and graceful in a green caftan. It comes as a surprise because somehow in his mind she'd stayed sixteen.

"Maybelle – "

She cuts him off, asking her daughter, "Your brother in detention again, Inez?"

"Yeah."

"All right then. Now go on over and tell Jackie Cooper we gonna go over her song for the show tomorrow."

As soon as they're alone, Maybelle turns on him and asks, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm back in town."

"I can see that. What I mean is, what gives you the idea you can just barge in here like this?"

"I came back, May. For you."

Maybelle laughs, "Is that right? Funny how I woulda thought you'd try that one a little earlier."

"Come on now, I'm serious. I just wanted to do some things before I settled is all, but now I'm here."

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm not sixteen anymore, in case you forgot to notice. I don't need you now. All those years ago woulda been nice, but it's too late for that."

"And what about the boy?"

"He's not much of a boy anymore, Oscar. Nearly seventeen, same age I was last time you bothered to stop by."

"I wanna see him."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"You heard me. You got no call going to meet him."

"He's my son, Maybelle. That gives me all the call in the world."

"Not the way I see it. When was the last time you wanted him to be your son? Do you even know his name?"

Oscar pauses. He doesn't know the boy's name, but what does that matter? Now he's back in Baltimore, he wants his family back. He wonders how much longer he's going to have to put up with this mood of Maybelle's. Not for much longer, if he has his way, which he will.

"Well, the way _I_ see it, Maybelle, you ain't got much choice in the matter. Just you try and stop me seeing him."

She looks completely unfazed.

"You don't scare me, Oscar Jones. Now this is my shop and my apartment, and I am telling you right now to get your sorry self out."

She's in her stride now, and he sees he's underestimated he, though he won't admit it or let on. And yet –

"Mama, did that Dylan cat's album get in? Rhonda didn't show up in detention show we figured that might be why."

There he is. He's right here, right in front of him. That's his son. He knows him right from looking because he looks just like him. Oscar wants to say something but Maybelle gets there first.

"Yeah, she was here twenty minutes ago. Seaweed, you and me are gonna have a good long talk about all this detention later. It is _not_ gonna keep on like this, boy, hear me?"

The boy grimaces but says, "Yeah, I hear you."

"Good. Go find Inez, we're eating soon."

Then he's gone. She turns to Oscar again.

"I thought I told you to get gone."

He doesn't want to go, but he's starting to realize this is a whole different Maybelle. One that people respect and maybe even fear a little. Either way, people take orders from her without a thought to do otherwise. He'll come back later, but for now there's only one more thing he needs to know.

"You named him Seaweed?"

This time when Maybelle laughs, it's not as cold as before. "You think I'm crazy? I named him after you, when I still thought you were coming back. Didn't take long to realize you weren't."

_The clock still strikes midnight and noon,_

The sun still rises and so does the moon.

Birds migrate south and people move on

Even though I'm no longer in your arms.

Thought I'd cry for you forever,

But I couldn't so I didn't


	2. Bitch

**The song that inspired this was 'Bitch' by Meredith Brooks.**

_I'm a bitch, I'm a lover_

_I'm a child, I'm a mother_

_I'm a sinner, I'm a saint_

_I do not feel ashamed_

_I'm your hell, I'm your dream_

_I'm nothing in between_

Six forty-nine was her favorite time of day. One minute after she set her alarm, and one minute before the deafening reminder that she was not going to be alone again for a good long time, and not in the good way either. In that one minute between unconsciousness and reality, she could be at peace.

And yet…

Yep, there it was. Those monumental wails and tiny hiccups between were so unholy. Brenda rolled over and groaned into her pillow, trying to block out that kicking, screaming bundle of life she'd brought into the world far too early.

Seven o'clock always came too soon.

Finally she couldn't ignore it for much longer. Damn maternal instincts. Brenda fell out of the pull-out couch and walked over to the cradle in the corner of her tiny apartment. Louisa stopped crying for a moment just long enough to look at her conspiratorially, then went promptly back to her business. It was obvious already that the baby was going to grow up to be just like her mother, and Brenda couldn't help but resent her for that. Her own mother had been warning her for the past year how difficult it had been to raise her. And that had been with an proper income and home and everything.

Brenda picked her daughter up and tried everything that she could think up to calm her, to no avail. She wasn't hungry. She didn't want her rattle. She didn't want her pacifier. When she tried to sing to her, Louisa just cried louder. Brenda rolled her eyes. She couldn't be _that_ bad a singer. She was starting to make a career out of it. That was, until all this happened.

She gritted her teeth. Louisa had no right to cry at her singing.

--

Work was hell. Corny had called her absence from the show a brief break. They'd all promised she could come back, even Mrs. von Tussel. So much for promises. So now she had to leave Louisa at her mother's house every morning, her mother who grumbled about having already raised three children, before coming in for a shift and overtime at the diner.

Ten hours of "Would you like that medium-rare?" and "I'm sorry, we're out of American cheese, but there's plenty of cheddar," while her friends got ready for pep rallies and danced around on TV. Albeit with Negroes, but still. She didn't understand why Vicki and Darla complained so much. Brenda would take an integrated dance show over a diner any day. Nobody said they had to talk to the Negroes. Besides, if she were still allowed on the show she'd finally have the chance to talk to him. The only time she'd seen Fender since leaving was when he signed a few forms at the doctor's. He hadn't even seen Louisa yet.

"Brenda."

Speak of the devil. She caught her breath, barely daring to turn around. Mentally she prepared herself for what she would find when she turned around.

She did it – she turned, and there he was, smiling nervously at her. Brenda's first instinct was to grab him around the neck and kiss him, right then and there in front of everyone. But within a second, the urge was gone, replaced by a sudden unexpected rage at him and everything he had done, everything he had screwed up and avoided.

"Can I help you?" she asked coldly.

"Brenda?" his smile faltered a bit, as though suddenly unsure.

Was he really that stupid? Did he really expect her to just jump into his arms? Of course, that was what she had nearly done, but Brenda shoved that thought out of her mind.

"Obviously it's me. What do you want, Fender?"

"I just wanted…I mean – are you okay? Is there anything you need?"

There were a million and one things she needed from him. Money, security, a house, a husband, love, just some sort of evidence that he still cared about her. But she couldn't admit a single one of these to him, so she tried to think of her child.

Brenda started to clear away the table in front of her while saying, somewhat sarcastically, though at the same time in complete seriousness, "I don't know, maybe it would be nice if you stopped by to see your daughter. Maybe take her to the park, keep her with you for a few days."

"You want me to do that?"

"Well do _you_ want to?"

"I do if you want me to?"

"Well why's this about me? Can't this be about you starting to be a dad?"

"A…a dad."

She couldn't do this. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Oh, why on earth was she so afraid of showing any sort of weakness? Brenda bit her lip for a moment before saying, "I know you're probably not ready. But I'm not ready to be a mom either and I don't have much choice in the matter. I can't do this alone – my mom hates me, Vicki and Darla are avoiding me, I just…I just need you to be here with me."

_I'm a bitch, I'm a tease_

_I'm a goddess on my knees_

_When you hurt, when you suffer_

_I'm your angel undercover_

_I've been numb, I'm revived_

_Can't say I'm not alive_


End file.
